


"Oh bollocks"

by Lord_Risley



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arguments, Bollocks, Clueless Sherlock, Declaration of Love, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Patient John, Szechuan chili beef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Risley/pseuds/Lord_Risley
Summary: Did the world really need to know about their failed first attempt at intercourse? Apparently so.





	

**Author's Note:**

> To try to make things clearer, I have made each characters speech a little different.
> 
> Sherlock is in normal "-"
> 
> John is in Italics
> 
> Mrs Hudson is in Bold

 

Mrs Hudson hummed in a highly irritating fashion as she moved about the room, rearranging stacks of precariously piled books, removing used mugs from the floor and moving all clothes into the laundry bin 

**“Clothes for the wash do not go on the floor”**  

She chided in a cheerful tone. She had been telling Sherlock this for years now and it made no difference but it seemed to please her to keep reminding him. She had to at least make the pretense of putting up some sort of resistance to his natural messy tendencies. John at least had the decency to look a little ashamed of making their elderly landlady look after them in this way, like a pair of overgrown schoolboys. 

 

_“Sorry Mrs Hudson, I’ve tried telling him but as soon as I mention laundry he starts to get that look “_  

**“That I’m not paying any attention to you at all and probably can’t even hear you’ look?”**  

“ _That’s the one!”_  

John and Mrs Hudson laughed together while Sherlock rolled over from his position on the couch and scowled 

“I can hear you” 

**“Only when it suits you dear”**  

Trilled Mrs Hudson, knocking his feet from the sofa 

**“Feet are for the floor, bottoms go on couches”**  

“My bottom is on the couch, my feet wish to be there too, they’re cold” 

**“Why don’t you wear those lovely slippers John bought you for Christmas”?**  

“Middle aged men wear slippers” Came the grumbling reply of a man with a serious case of denial. Sherlock rolled back onto his side, petulantly sticking his feet back up onto the couch and shoving them under a cushion. 

_“You are a middle aged man”_  John replied in a slightly weary voice, his eyes already going back to the newspaper in his hands.  _“You have been for some years now”_  

“Am not” 

Mrs Hudson started to hum again and removed the plate of uneaten toast from the table top. 

**“Nothing wrong with middle age. After all, you’ve both been together so long now that you can’t deny you’re both aging. How long is it now?”**  

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, still determined to be a world class sulker for at least another half an hour “Don’t know” 

**“Don’t be silly, you remember who came to visit me sixteen months ago in the middle of March on a Wednesday! You remember everything!”**  

“Delores Clutterbuck, she brought cake, a smell of cats and a laugh that should get you a prison term of five years minimum” 

**“See, You remember that, and she has a very pretty laugh I think, how can you not remember your anniversary?”**  

John had the sense to raise his newspaper a little higher and to duck down behind it to hide his face from view, his fingers the only thing visible now. 

Sherlock rolled over, leaping to his feet and yanking his robe angrily about himself. He snorted, threw his arms up and raked his hands through his hair like he couldn’t decide how to respond to such a comment. 

“Anniversary? ANNIVERSARY? We aren’t a pair of teenage girls! It’s just…It’s Just John isn’t it!” 

He announced with a shout. There was a dramatic spin on the spot and then he flounced from the room, slamming his door shut behind him. 

Mrs Hudson opened her mouth to comment but then her eyes noticed the newspaper gets slowly scrunched up and ripped where hands were forming into fists. 

_“Just John? Just John? Great. At least I know where I stand”_  

 

An hour later and Sherlock was thoroughly bored. Sulking in his bedroom had been done, point made, time to leave and find something to entertain himself with and hopefully no more talk of relationships. Ugh. Why must it be such a public spectacle? A discussion for others to laugh about? He and John had an understanding. They were both very....fond.. Of each other and endlessly announcing that or celebrating arbitrary dates was completely unnecessary. Yes, now he and John would get some takeaway and be left alone to themselves for the evening before retiring to the bedroom for an evening of sex.  

Full of confidence, Sherlock strode into the living room with a smug look upon his face.  

"John. I have forgiven you and you may now feed me and....John?" 

There was a complete lack of John in his living room. It was devoid of any John. His home was Johnless.  

 "John?" 

He asked the empty flat 

"Where are you?" 

He checked his phone, no messages. He checked the fridge where John would sometimes stick a note for him, nothing. He started to tap his fingers against his chin thoughtfully. Maybe he had made an error of judgment? Perhaps this anniversary thing was important? How to show John that he both knew and cared? How to convince him to come home with takeaway, preferably Chinese, and an evening of sex?  

John had been annoyed, how else was he supposed to react when his lover spent so much time denying their relationship? Especially when it was in front of their landlady who regularly complained about the noise the night after they had sex. On one particularly horrifying occasion she had walked in on them while Sherlock was on his knees, he was hidden only by the armchair and had refused to stop at the intrusion. John had to endure a conversation with his landlady while Sherlock's tongue did unspeakable things to him. The memory made him grin goofily. Sherlock had a very naughty streak when it suited him. He was incredibly possessive of John but seemed to take a strange delight in nearly getting caught at it. John chuckled to himself and shook his head. Definitely time to head home. Sherlock would be so grumpy already, leave him hungry and alone and he would be borderline unbearable.  

John stopped at their favourite Chinese takeaway to order their 'regular'. Well...he would have ordered but the girl behind the counter just giggled when he came in and said "Mr Watson! Singapore chow mein, chili Szechuan beef, mixed vegetable, barbecue ribs and rice?" His face heated up to a bright pink and he just nodded politely as she giggled again and took his credit card to swipe. When did they become so predictable and ...and, happy? The goofy smile returned. This is what he enjoyed, wanted from life. Comfortable nights in with a man he adored and in return he was loved. Yes, they had to put up with Sherlock's moods and a libido that disappeared for months and then came back with the need of a teenage boy. Yes, Sherlock could win awards for the longevity of his sulking. Yes, he had to check very carefully every single item that he removed from the fridge. He wouldn't change any of it though. He loved Sherlock just as he was.  

John was trying very hard to erase the goofy smile from his face as he turned a corner and strolled onto Baker Street. He better tone it down or they'd never get to eat hot food tonight. Sherlock hated sentiment, romance and anything seemingly traditional. He'd forgive this slight insult like every other. Sherlock could be..... " _Oh God"_  

 

The thought died and withered as his eyes focused on his flat. What the hell had happened? He gulped, closed his eyes, squeezed them tight, took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Must be a Mirage. It could not possibly be true. He opened one eye, just a little.  

_"Shit"_  

He'd seen correctly. There was a huge sign, made of two white bed sheets stitched together. It was hanging from the windows of their flat, tied off with rope of some kind. You could probably see the bloody thing from space. There must be people in France currently laughing at this. Massive letters, scrawled in red paint adorned the sheets.  

 

SHERLOCK HOLMES AND JOHN WATSON.  

A LIST: 

FIRST KISS = 801 DAYS AGO 

FIRST BUTTOCK PAT = 796 DAYS AGO 

FIRST TIME SLEEPING TOGETHER (No intercourse. Sleep only) = 784 DAYS AGO 

FIRST BLOWJOB = 783 DAYS AGO 

FIRST ATTEMPTED INTERCOURSE = 766 DAYS AGO 

FIRST SUCCESSFUL INTERCOURSE = 756 DAYS AGO 

FIRST DECLARATION OF LOVE = MID INTERCOURSE 756 DAYS AGO 

 

WE ARE A COUPLE. I LOVE HIM. HE IS MINE. HANDS OFF.  

 

John's mouth fell open. The bag of Chinese bumped to the floor as his hands went limp. What the hell was that? First successful intercourse? Did they realy need the world to know what a fumbling mess they had been the first time?  

" _Sherlock"_  

He groaned 

"Yes John?" 

Sherlock said, appearing at Johns side like a London based ninja. He already his hands out to catch John about the hips when he jumped in surprise  

" _The sign"_  

John squeaked, waving an arm at the massive banner.  

"Yes. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't understand. I hope this rectifies my blunder?" 

John's mind was reeling. 'No. This isn't what normal people do' is what he was tempted to yell but how could he when a nose was gently pressing against his neck, long fingers curling around his belt and curly hair was making his nose tickle. This was done because Sherlock thought it was what John wanted 

" _I love it"_  

_He_ _managed_ _to say_  

_"It's just perfect, but how about we take it down and enjoy our C_ _hinese_ _before too many other people see it?"_  

_"_ Okay. The press were here a half hour ago so it doesn't matter now. Everybody will know how much you mean to me now" 

_"Oh bollocks"_  

Sherlock's lips started to kiss along John's jaw, nuzzling affectionately and starting to drag him toward the flat.  

"Yes. I love those too"

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee one shot thing. Leave me (nice) comments. Love to know your views. Also I think I'll write up the failed first time next.


End file.
